Questions
by hopelesslyhalfhearted
Summary: She always liked asking a lot of questions, most of which you had no problem answering.
1. Favourite

Favourite

"What's your favourite food, Ted?" She's sat on the roundabout, right in the middle, apparently it makes people feel less sick, that's what a muggle friend at school told her. You can't understand how moving a few inches could possibly change the strength of the horrible dizzy feeling produced by muggle roundabouts. You've always hated the things, they've always made you feel sick. You wonder if you should have a go at sitting in the middle, maybe then you might enjoy it, but you very quickly decide against it. The time Uncle Ron insisted you went on one comes to mind and you'd rather not ruin another one of your favourite t-shirts.

You hesitate to answer her question, it's a difficult one, especially for a boy whose Grandma may as well be a professional restaurateur. You think about what you've eaten in the past week, for your young mind struggles to remember anything beyond a week or two. Monday you had pasta and Tuesday you had a hot dog because Grandma had to work late, leaving you in the care of Uncle Harry, who took you to a Harpies game to watch Ginny. You have to keep the hot dog secret though, Grandma doesn't like you eating fast food. Wednesday is always Toad-in-the-Hole day and Thursday is 'Chance' day, Grandma chooses a random page from the recipe book and makes it. You block Thursday out of your mind, the meal had involved spinach. Friday you had cheese on toast because you didn't feel very good and today you're at Dominque's birthday, so you stuffed yourself full with numerous mini bites and little triangular sandwiches (but only after you got Fleur to cut off the crusts for you).

Grandma Molly has taken you to the park just down the road, she said the adults had drunk too much firewhisky. You're not sure what it is, but you know it makes people act funny. Sometimes it makes them happy, like today, but sometimes it makes them all sad, like when Ron drank lots one time on Victoire's birthday; Fleur refused to speak to him for a week and Hermoine blocked him out for at least 2. You decided you're glad Grandma took you out, but you're even happier that she let you take out a tray of some food too.

Right now you are eating ice cream, that multi coloured one, that's stripy in the box, and is meant to be strawberry, vanilla and chocolate, but it melts away in your bowl and ends up as a gloopy pale brown mess. You think it tastes nice though.

"Ice cream," You shovel a large spoonful of the stuff into your mouth as soon as you've said it. It tastes wonderful. You know you've answered the question correctly.


	2. PartTime Phobia

Part-Time Phobia

"Is it scary?" She's been worrying about Hogwarts ever since she got her letter at the beginning of the summer. You can't really understand what she's worried about, she's never been the worrying kind before now. She's always been the first one to try climbing a tree or test out how cold the water is in the stream you sometimes paddle in. She didn't even have any problems joining in with the violent game of Quidditch that you and your friends were playing just last week on the Burrow's large lawn. She marched straight up to them and demanded they let her play beater. They laughed, of course, at the little girl, her face reddened with anger. You didn't dare laugh though, you had seen her in action. She snatched the bludger and threw it straight at Thomas' head, luckily Hermione had charmed it so that it wasn't so fast or painful, but needless to say, everyone got the message and she spent the next few days flying circles around them.

"Nah," You realise you don't sound very convincing, but you're mind is too focused on figuring out what on earth could phase her. She's stunning. Not pretty or cute like a normal 11 year old, she's take your breath away beautiful. She looks older than she is and until your growth spurt this summer, she could have been mistaken for being older than you, instead of being 2 years your junior. This will get her a lot of attention from the boys when she arrives at Hogwarts, you're certain, but you can't imagine that she would find it a problem. She's used to attention from your friends and she's tough, really tough. She'd have no trouble swatting any annoying males out of her way.

"Teddy," She's looking at you with her serious face, her eyes stern and her mouth fixed into an almost perfectly straight line. You don't like that face, you don't think anyone below the age of 16 should be able to do it. It's the kind of look Harry uses when he knows you're lying or covering something up.

"I promise you it's not scary," You try to sound reassuring, though it's difficult in the state your voice is in at the moment. Hermoine says you sound like a muggle cartoon character, Scooby Doo or something. You hope it's fully broken by the time term starts, otherwise you've decided you won't talk to anyone outside a close group of friends. You haven't quite worked out how you'll avoid answering questions in class. There's a slight chance that Harry might lend you his cloak, if you say it's so you can check up on the slightly rebellious Victoire, Bill will certainly help your plea, but you doubt Harry would ever part with the item.

"Ok," Ok? Just like that? You can't understand how all her worries could wash away so quickly. She smiles, trying to supress a laugh, and you realise you probably have your 'confused face' on.

"Just ok?"

"Well, you never break promises," All anxiety dispears and when you hear Bill calling you in for dinner, she stands up quickly and faces the white cottage. She flicks her head back to face you, her long hair whipping around as she does so. "Race you," A devilish grin appears on her face and you can't help but smile at her antics.

**Review and I'll give you some of the multi coloured ice cream left over from the last chapter. **

**You know you want some.**


	3. Unplanned Pregnancy

Unplanned Pregnancy

Your favourite part of being at Hogwarts is the vast expanse of grounds that you are allowed to wonder around in. You do all your study out in the open, instead of being couped up in the slightly smelly and dimly lit library. Even now, in the snow, whilst everyone else is tucked up warm in their common rooms, getting excited about going home in a few days, at the same time as being saddened by the temporary separation from their friends, you find yourself sat on the bank looking out towards the lake. It's frozen over on the shore closest to you and you can just make out some of the trails left by people who had been skating earlier in the day, although most have been covered by a fresh sprinkling of snow.

You told yourself you were coming out the reminisce, your last days of December at the castle, as a student at least. You're going home for Christmas, though you doubt you'll spend much of your time at your actual house, you are pretty certain the Burrow will be your main residence for this holiday, along with every Weasley and Potter in a 500 mile radius. Percy wouldn't be able to make it this year and Charlie wasn't sure if he'd be able to get home before the New Year, but even without them the Burrow would be full.

You had told yourself you wouldn't think about it, you wouldn't allow it to float into your thoughts (at least not tonight anyway), but you'd just thought of the Weasleys. And you can't think of the Weasleys without thinking about her, the most important one of the lot. You try to think up a list of the most important people in your life, trying to figure out who's at the top. Most of the list bear the last name Weasley, a smaller (but still significant) proportion are Potter's, there's a few Longbottom's shoved in there and one Tonks. You then feel incredibly bad, you've included no Lupin's. But you find it hard to understand how they are important to your life right now. You've never met them. They should be important, they should be the most important. But they weren't. And you couldn't change that, no matter how hard you tried or wanted to, it was a fact.

She's pretty near the top; the girl you had promised yourself you wouldn't think about, the girl who knew almost every single one of your secrets. If you're honest with yourself, she's the reason you're out here thinking, when you should be celebrating inside with the firewhiskey that Thomas had managed to smuggle in (Merlin knows how). You're not really reminiscing, you'll be doing that at the end of the year.

You look down at your hand, the most obvious reminder of what had happened. It's not as red now, but it's still just as painful. You're glad you were quick to turn away, otherwise you're pretty sure you'd have a more painful injury somewhere on your face.

"Why?" You know who it is without turning around, there's only one person it could possibly be, so you stay where you are, staring out across the lake.

"Huh?" You pretend not to understand her question, your not sure why, you know it will only anger her more, but you're not really sure what else to do, because you certainly don't want her to hear the true answer to her intended question and you haven't quite thought up a convincing lie yet.

"You know," She's still stood behind you, which is incredibly irritating. You want to be able to see her face, see her expression, though you're pretty sure she'll be using her serious Harry-like face.

"Vic, I honestly have no..." You don't finish your sentence, because she's run around your statue like body, so that she is now stood in front of you, glaring down into your eyes.

"Are you stupid or do you just enjoy irritating me?" She looks so angry, angrier than when Louis snapped the heads of her dolls, which you didn't think was even possible.

"Why what, Vic?"

"Why what? WHY WHAT? Why are you sat out here? Why the HELL did you hit _my_ boyfriend, your _best frie__nd_? Why have you been acting like a complete and utter prick? Pick one! Pick any question, TEDDY!" You know what you're about to say will probably tip her over the edge, but you still need time to think and she has offered you to answer _any _of those questions.

"I didn't have my wand," She looks bewildered, completely confused by your answer.

"What?"

"I hit him because I couldn't do a hex," You shrug as if your answer is perfectly reasonable. You expect her to go insane, to shout her head off, maybe to even slap you. But she doesn't. She does nothing you expect. She pulls on her hair and slips down slowly so that she is sitting next to you, head in her hands.

"Teddy," She sounds exasperated, tired, upset. Not angry or mad. You don't understand it. "Just tell me." She sighs, making you think maybe she has more to say before you are expected to answer. "Tell me the truth, without the bullshit or the jokes. Just the truth. If I've done something wrong or..." You suddenly feel incredibly guilty. You realise before now you've felt every emotion on the spectrum about the situation, apart from guilt, it seemed to have escaped you conscience. But now, looking at her glassy blue eyes, through a certain of silky blonde hair, scattered with snow flakes, you realise that you should feel incredibly guilty. It's not like she could possibly know why your upset. But then the more selfish part of you thinks that she should. As your best friend she should be able to tell, to see it.

"You know," You're not sure what to say. You contemplate telling her to whole truth, the reason your so angry at him, the reason why your so angry at her. "He's not my best friend, you are," Chicken, you say to yourself.

"Stop stalling,"

"I'm not, I promise, I have a point," She nods, indicating for you to go on. "You're my best friend and he's your boyfriend. I remembered when you started going out, your...anniversary?" Yes, of course you do, the date is etched into your brain, branded there, forever in place. It's a scar. "And he...didn't," You notice relief wash over her, as if she were expecting something so much worse.

"He did Ted," She's got on her assuring voice. You don't like it. She uses it when she's telling Louis there are no monsters under her bed or when she's telling her Dad that she didn't touch a drop of alcohol at some party, it's for family. You don't want to be family, not brother or protective father. But she doesn't seem to understand that, and with your chickenness there doesn't seem to be anyway you can make her understand. "He got me my favourite flowers and those gloves that I'd wanted for _ages_,"

"The flowers you saw when you visited Charlie?"

"Yes, the purple ones with the lit..."

"Crocus banaticus,"

"What?"

"It's what there called. You know it took ages to research them, I had to use the muggle Google thingy," She doesn't look quite so at ease now. "It took longer to find someone that would ship them over,"

"I'm really conf..." Now you've started you can't stop, you're a motor mouth and your engine is on.

"The gloves were harder though. You know they don't make them anymore? I had to go pester some old witch in Suffolk for her pair. You know they cost 10 times more than they did originally? Tight bitc..."

"Stop rambling," She throws her hands up in the hair and her subdued state seems to have gone as quickly as it came. "Why were _you _getting _my_ anniversary presents?"

"Because they were meant to be from me," You speak slowly now, quiet and slow, suddenly unsure of whether you should tell her. "You don't let me get you stuff on your birthday because it's...well...my parents...and you don't get much of a celebration from everyone else, even though they try. So, I figured I could give you presents on your anniversary, because...to...you know..."

"No I don't know Teddy," She seems so irritated, which is irritating you, you're trying to explain as best you can.

"To make up for all the crappy birthdays, and I'm always so depressing on your birthday, and it's not fair,"

"Of course it's fair, Ted, you're parents died,"

"I know. Ok? I know." You take a breath, trying to calm yourself down. "I know, but I wanted to make up for it anyway."

"So you got me presents?"

"Yeah, I got a bloody paper cut wraping them up. I couldn't even heal it 'cause I'd left my wand in detention," You hate being forgetful, almost as much as you used to hate being clumsy, but then Grandma told you your mum was clumsy too, and suddenly it didn't seem to bad at all, you felt kind of proud to be like her, even if it wasn't her courage that you had inherited.

"Why did Torin say they were from him?"

"He'd forgotten."

"I gathered that," She stands up, frustrated. She's pacing up and down, pushing her fringe back, sometimes she flicks it, you like it when she flicks it, it shows her white neck for the briefest moment. "Why did you spend so much effort and time on it then just let someone else take all the credit? I mean, what do you get from it?"

"I figured you'd be happier if you were getting them from him," You pause very quickly, before continuing. "Plus, you'd feel more let down if he didn't get you one than if I didn't get you one,"

"Teddy..." She's stopped pacing and now she's looking at you're a lost puppy.

"Look Victoire, it really doesn't matter. I got you the presents to make you happy, I completed the objective, not quite how I planned, but it worked anyway. So, it doesn't matter. Ok?"

"I don't get why you hit him."

"Because he's a dick."

"What?" She's bent down, looking up at you now, instead of down like she had been for the rest of the time.

"It's boy stuff Vic."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter,"

"Teddy, you can tell me anything, you know that,"

"I can?" She's nodding, willing you to go on. "What if it's something that will hurt you? That will make everything complicated for you? Can I tell you that? Because I promised you I would never hurt you and you said I never break promises, so every thing's conflicting, my mind's at war with itself, Vic."

"Don't worry about hurting me," Merlin, sometimes she says the stupidest things.

"I'd love to be able to, but I can't. You're like...you're programmed into me and I can't just switch off the 'make sure Vic's alright' button." You laugh at the stupidity of the situation. "Merlin knows I wish I could,"

"Ted," She wipes away a strand of turqouise hair that has fallen in front of your eyes. "You're like a second overly protective father, you know that?" Father? Overly protective father? God, she was so wrong, you wish you could tell her just how wrong she was. It's unbearable now, so unbearable. You stand quickly and pinch your brow.

"I can't be around you right now,"

"What?" You wish you weren't doing this. You shouldn't be doing it. You know you shouldn't. But then you know you should. And every thing's wrong. She's your _best _friend. _Best. _Since _forever. Best. _But you can't think of any other way to do it, any other way that you could make it less painful, you need to ease the pain, so badly. You hope if you see her less it will go away. The annoying nagging feeling inside you will go away with time and you'll be able to go back to her and you'll apologize and then you can get on like normal again.

"I mean..." You're not sure what you mean. You haven't thought it through. What about the holiday? What about your families? How on earth are you meant to spend 2 weeks in the same house together after you've said _this_. You don't even know what the _this _is that you're going to say, it's not like you've planned it. "I can't...I can't be around you. I just...you're so amazing, you know, and I'm so luckily that you've put up with all my crap over the years. I just...oh god, I can't...explain...it's...I don't want to make everything difficult, for you and Torin, for you especially," She's crying, your making her cry. You hate it. "You know, this sounds really cliche, but it's me not you. It really is. It's all me and my...my...idiocy. I've been such an idiot these past few months and I know you don't understand, but I really am trying Vic, you know, to just...go back it normal. So, I think, if I get away from you, for a bit, maybe everything _will _go back to normal, you know? And then maybe we can be normal again, without me being a prick,"

"I really don't understa..."

"Just...we're still friends, I mean if you want to be of course,"

"Of course I want to be, you idiot," You smile slightly and move closer to her. You raise your hand to her cheek and gently brush away a tear with your thumb.

"Think of it as...as half time in quidditch...the players are all worked up and tired and the end of the first half and they start making bad mistakes and wrong passes and...and then they go away and they have a drink and a rest...and they go back on and they're back to business, fresh and alert," Merlin, she's still crying. You're not sure what to do, you feel like crying yourself. "I could probably cut half time short, only in very exceptional circumstances though, like...if moral support is needed for an unplanned pregnancy," She smiles a little and sniffs, wiping tears out of her eyes with her sleeve.

"You're not too bad," _Let's just stay as we are, _is the unheard plea, you both realise it.

"I hexed him so that for a month everytime he saw you or was near you he got...well...you know..." Her eyes widen in shock, but to your relief you notice that there is no anger in her expression, there may even be a faint trace of laughter.

"Hard?" You nod, embarrassed about the subject. You'd never really thought it would crop up between you and her. "That was you?" You nod again. She's definitely laughing now, but then she stops, as if she's realised something. "When does half time end?"

"When I stop feeling the need to be a jerk," She leans in and places her head in the crook of your neck, a fit so perfect that it seemed you tessellated.

"Bye Ted," She whispers her words, before stepping away and leaving you to stare back out at the lake. You don't turn around to watch her return to the castle, you don't want to see her. You're going to be Victoire free. You're going to be Teddy again.


	4. To be Answered at a Later Date

To be Answered at a Later Date

You know you shouldn't be listening in on the conversation, Grandma taught you your manners well, despite numerous attempts to corrupt you by Uncle George. You've actually borrowed one of his oldest inventions, the Extendable Ear, to carry out your current snooping. You laugh inside at the irony.

You're sat on the stairs of the Burrow, the string of ear trailing down below you, until it reaches the living room, where Ginny, Fleur, Hermione, Molly and Victoire are sitting. You had quickly excused yourself from the quidditch match outside, saying that you didn't want to risk an injury before the big match against Slytherin. It will be your last match against them, and is one you are desperate to win. You managed to defeat Hufflepuff before Christmas, and with Griffindor losing at the beginning of the year, you could be on top if all goes well.

You left the garden, with James Potter and Uncle George shouting various items of abuse your way, along with Harry's attempts to scould his son for using certain bad language. You had seen the elder women retreating into the house, just before the quidditch teams were picked and had decided, against your better judgement, to go after them.

It hadn't been too difficult, avoiding Victoire, it was one of the many times that you were glad the Weasley/Potter family was so huge. You entertained the kids, had mature conversations about your future with the adults, managed to disapear without anyone noticing. Yes, you are certain the large family was a blessing, you'd have never gotten away with it otherwise.

"Hermione," It's her voice and you suddenly wish that the Extendable Ear had some sort of camera attached to it.

"Yes?" The elder witch answers.

"Did Harry ever...like...ignore you?"

"What?"

"Well, did you ever have a point where he...said you couldn't be friends, like you needed a break?"

"Are you having problems with Teddy?" The youngest redhead in the room joins in the conversation, and you can imagine Victoire's look of surprise at how easily Ginny figured out what was going on.

"I..." She pauses, you can tell she's thinking hard as whether it is a good idea to reveal her problems to them. "He's been acting like a di..." She stops herself, obviously realising just who she's talking to. "Idiot. He's been acting like an idiot, ever since, well, October really. But then he hit Torin," You hear gasps. "Yeah, well I confronted him about it and...he said it was boy problems or something, but that he had to not be around me, like take a break,"

"Mon papillon," Fleur has taken to calling her a butterfly ever since she was little, apparently she fluttered about, something to do with her constant fidgeting.

"I get that he wants to try and be his normal self again, I just don't get why he changed in the first place," You feel very guilty, but you know there is nothing you can do. Well, that you're brave enough to do.

"When did you start going out with Torin?"

"October..." You can tell by her tone that she has realised something. "But it can't be that he doesn't like Torin, they're best friends,"

"Maybe he just doesn't like Torin being with you,"

"Hermoine that makes no sense,"

"It does," Ginny decides it's her turn to rejoin. "There's this little thing called jealousy," She's not finished yet. "Maybe you should have asked Hermoine if _Ron _ever ignored her," Victoire gasps, realising what her Aunt is trying to say.

"But...Teddy...he..." You can't let this happen, you can't let Victoire actually begin to believe what she has been told, even if it is the truth. You've told yourself that one day, one day you will tell her, once you're older and braver, you'll answer all her confused questions about your behaviour and you'll tell her the whole truth. Just not yet. One day. That's why you know you have to do _something _before the elder women put forward compelling evidence to support their theory, which they most certainly will do if they are given the chance. You run down the stairs, 3 at a time, your brain so worked up and worried that you don't remember that you are now of age and able apparate.

"Anybody want a drink?" You realise that you may seem a little suspicious, having crashed into the room, flinging the door wide open.

"Teddy," Molly looks up at you and smiles knowingly. "Aren't you playing quidditch?"

"Nah," You shrug, trying to act normal. "Figured I didn't want to get injured before the big match,"

"Thinking ahead, as always," She smiles again.

"What's this I hear about you getting into a fight?" You cast a quick glance at Victoire, before answering Ginny.

"It wasn't really a fight..."

"But you hit someone..."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"I'm pretty sure Torin didn't deserve it,"

"He did." You won't back down on that point. Never. He deserved much more than just one punch.

"Oh, he did? May I ask why?"

"May _I_ ask if anyone would like to answer my first question?"

"Teddy," She's glaring at you, the kind of glare she uses with her own children. It makes you insanly frightened, but somehow makes you happy at the same time, that she is treating you like her own child. You couldn't really ask for anything more.

"Tea? Coffee? Maybe something stronger, it is Christmas after a..." You stop your jovial mutterings when she stands up.

"Edward. Outside now," You look down at your shoes, suddenly increadibly embarassed by your situation. "Outside. Don't make me wake up your Grandma,"

"Ginny. I'm sorry for ignoring you," You look at her, trying to show her just how serious you are being, that you are sorry for more than just what you have apologized for. She seems to get the message, for she doesn't say another word, although you don't give her much time.

With a loud crack you are gone.


End file.
